Page 188 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

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After I’d slept at my damn desk last night because I didn’t want to come home to face Laila and then working nonstop at the club with Pietro, who wanted to be helpful for once, I stepped into the elevator in my building and hit the button to the top floor.

I leaned against the metal wall and pressed on my temple, my head pounding since I had woken up. Usually, Laila would grab me some aspirin whenever I had a headache, but today, I had gone without them completely. But, fuck, I needed one now.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped onto my floor and tapped my code into the lock. The door clicked open, and I walked into the quiet house. I expected Laila to be home, curled up in the bed, sobbing that she had just killed her best friend.

But there was nothing.

Not even a muffled cry.

Once I grabbed some medicine, I walked to our bedroom and tried to figure out what I would say to her. If she gave me the silent treatment, she was pissed. But still, I wanted to see her, to kiss her, to tell her that we would work this out.

We always did.

“Laila,” I called, knocking on the door before I opened it.

The bedroom was empty, the bed untouched. I pressed my lips together and stepped into the room, peeking into her walk-in closet.

“Laila, are you in here?”

Silence.

My stomach twisted, and I pulled out my phone. No messages from her. No calls.

I tapped on her contact and put the phone on speaker as I walked back to the kitchen to grab a snack from the fridge. The phone rang three times, and then her voice drifted through the speaker.

“Hi. This is Laila. Sorry I missed your call. Please leave me a message.”

Fuck.

Ignoring me was even worse than the silent treatment.

After calling her five more times and texting her about twenty, I sighed and placed my phone down. Where did she go? It didn’t even look like she had come home at all last night, no crumbs on the kitchen counter, like she usually left during breakfast.

Once I pulled off my suit jacket and tossed it onto the couch, I picked up my phone again and dialed her number. I waited and waited and waited until she finally picked the goddamn thing up.

“Hello?” Pietro said through the phone.

“Pietro,” I growled, “where the fuck is she?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play stupid,” I snapped, tugging off my tie. “Laila.”

“Don’t know,” he said. “Someone found her phone on the ground of the club after you left. Must’ve dropped it here when she ran out last night. Surprised she hasn’t come to get it yet. Before you fucking … you know … to Bethany, she was glued to the thing.”

My stomach dropped. Fuck no.

“She’s gone?” I whispered, remembering how I hadn’t seen the tinted-out SUV outside the club when I left.

I thought that they had given up, but … they must’ve fucking taken her. They had taken my wife!

“Pietro, search the cameras outside the club for Laila. Get back to me as soon as fucking possible. I’ll be down there in twenty minutes.”

While my thoughts were racing, I tried to stay calm. Tried to think clearly. I wouldn’t let those fuckers win. I wouldn’t let them trick me into making a mistake. But I also needed to save Laila. I didn’t want them harming a fucking hair on her head.

After snatching my keys, I ran to the elevator and hit the bottom button, slamming on the Close Door button. What felt like an eternity later, I reached the lowest floor and sprinted straight for my car. Those assholes would pay for kidnapping my wife. I would cut their fucking—

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